


How to Relax a Vulcan in 3 Steps or Less

by Stella_Delilah



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alien strippers, M/M, Spock really likes Jim's butt, Strippers & Strip Clubs, like a lot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-04
Updated: 2019-06-08
Packaged: 2019-10-04 01:37:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17295209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stella_Delilah/pseuds/Stella_Delilah
Summary: No matter what Nyota and Hikaru claimed, Spock was NOT uptight, and he planned to prove them wrong.*Basically Spock goes out with Nyota to a male strip club, where he is pleasantly surprised at the selection of men who are interested in him- and the selection of men that he's interested in.*





	1. Lion Cub: Woof

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, thanks for clicking! Please enjoy

No matter what Nyota and Hikaru claimed, Spock was NOT uptight, and he planned to prove them wrong.

 

Spock stood in front of his dresser mirror, surveying his appearance. The blue turtleneck he’d chosen seemed too stuffy for a club, even if it was extremely appropriate for the blustery winter weather outside. Spock swallowed a sigh and pulled off his sweater to view his black regulation undershirt. Even his trousers seemed overly professional, which wasn't usually an issue. For a moment, he considered mussing up his hair, but he forced the ridiculous thought away as he smoothed his hands over his shirt. This was casual.

 

When the school year began, Nyota, Hikaru, and Spock became fast friends. Despite being on different paths on their track to joining a starship team, they shared interests in succeeding academically and linguistic exploration. Spock appreciated both Nyota and Hikaru’s aptitudes for academia, and neither of them mocked his limited knowledge of Earth cultures. Not only did they did not mock, but also accepted his shortcomings and his daily misunderstandings. The two of them were his closest friends at Starfleet. Spock was forever grateful.

 

Although they didn't care about Spock’s lack of cultural immersion in Earth’s customs, Nyota he should be exposed to certain aspects of Terran life. Hikaru, to Spock’s chagrin, agreed with her. Over the past few months, Nyota had treated him to several outings. Some were simply to local coffeehouses, while other events together consisted of going to upscale restaurants or even bars together. Hikaru treated him to miniature golf, regular golf, bowling, and several other ‘fun’ sports before bringing him to a group setting. Although Spock knew this was done for his benefit, Hikaru never complained or pointed it out. It was kind of his friend, he always thought. 

 

Tonight was different. Tonight, Nyota and Hikaru had opted instead to bring Spock to a club. When asked how to dress properly for the night, Nyota had simply replied, “Look hot. If you need to change, I’ll tell you.” And thus, Spock was standing in front of his closet, in his underwear, staring angrily at the clothes hanging in his closet. He sighed. It was futile to be angry with non-sentient items in his closet. With the slightest air of frustration, Spock grabbed at a plain grey long-sleeved button-down and a pair of dark jeans. His only jeans and only casual wear. Any other non-formal wear was primarily meant for lounging; the sleep robes and soft pants. After changing his shirt, Spock surveyed his outfit and decided upon his single brown belt, which he’d received from his mother along with the jeans.

“I don’t know if they’ll fit you,” she had explained with her soft smile, “But in case they don’t, you’ll need a belt.” When he tried to deny the gift, Amanda shushed him and claimed that he may need them at some point.

A chime alerted him near the door. Shutting the closet door and giving himself one last look in the mirror, Spock turned and answered it.

Nyota’s face appeared over the screen.

“Spock! Are you ready?” Nyota’s hair was pulled back into her signature ponytail, and she was clearly calling him from her personal communicator. She looked beautiful, which was to be expected, and if Spock were not attracted to men he might have fallen for her. “Hey babyface, show me your outfit first.”

Spock stepped back from his house comm and tugged at his shirt self-consciously. “Is this sufficient for our outing tonight?” Nyota’s eyes roamed over him from top to bottom and she raised her eyebrows appraisingly.

“Yeah, that’s fine. But you can’t wear your normal shoes.”

Spock raised his eyebrow now. “Is there something inappropriate about my regulation boots?”

From her comm, Nyota shook her head. It was clear now that she had left her hovercar and was headed up to his apartment. Spock resided on the second floor of an appropriately priced building which housed many other cadets and Starfleet personnel. Without preamble, Spock buzzed her in. She appeared before him in less than a minute.

A soft smile on her face and her purse over her arm, Nyota opened his apartment door. “You’re gonna wear those cute brown boots that you picked up with Scotty last time. Oh, he’ll probably be here tonight too.” Spock nodded and reached into the living room closet to grab the boots. “We’re gonna stop a couple of places? We’re gonna grab a bite, then going to split up, then we’ll probably meet back up at my place, or at The Pad.”

“The Pad” was the name of Hikaru and his roommate’s apartment, which was the usual hang out place. it was much larger and more fashionable than anyone else's living space. In the hovercar, Nyota forced him to cuff his jeans over his boots, which seemed highly unnecessary. The pants already tapered down slightly at the ankles anyway and were the correct length. Cuffing them did not add anything to the outfit besides aesthetic appeal, and they didn’t seem to even add enough appeal as it were.

After the two of them picked up Scotty (as Hikaru offered to drive himself and meet them at dinner), Nyota drove the three of them to a local eatery offering some dinner foods and baked goods.

“Ah, Spock, lad, you must be over the top excited, eh?” Scotty asked, clapping Spock on the shoulder as the engineer held a sandwich in the other hand. Spock paused with his soup and considered the question.

“I am no more or less excited than our usual gatherings,” he responded. This garnered a laugh from the group, especially from Nyota who glared at Scotty. Her words contained no malice when she spoke.

“Come on, don’t ruin the surprise!” Nyota stage whispered. Spock allowed himself a small smirk into his bowl.

Hikaru shrugged. “We’re just having a normal time, hanging out as friends.” His eyes slid over to meet Spock’s. Spock swallowed and looked away. He knew that his friends enjoyed his presence, otherwise they would not continue to invite him out. While Nyota and Scotty discussed something about the incorporation of digital linguism into some Starfleet regulations and how to combat it and other forms of discrimination, Spock allowed his mind to drift. It was often that the group would make outings, and he was always invited, but there was a small part of the Vulcan that assumed that they may not wish for him to come along. Such thoughts were clearly unwanted but persisted nonetheless. Spock dipped his spoon into the remaining bit of his soup.

“Alright,” Hikaru sighed, “I think it’s about time we headed out. Shall we?”

Scotty climbed into Hikaru’s car, while Spock settled into the passenger seat beside Nyota. He pressed his fingertips against the armrest and resisted the urge to drum them. For some reason, there was a nervous knot settled in his stomach.

“Which establishment shall we be visiting tonight?” Spock asked Nyota as she backed out of the restaurant’s parking lot and turned right onto the street. Nyota hummed good-naturedly and tapped her nose.

“We’re headed to the Lion Cub,” She murmured. Spock nodded, looking back out of his own window into the twilight and the setting sun. He turned forward once more.

“And this ‘lion cub’ is a... bar?”

Nyota’s mouth twitched. “Yeah, there'll be drinks.” She noticed Spock’s frown and shrugged at him. “It’s actually a tit.” She raised her eyebrow and glanced over at him, and Spock nodded. At this, Nyota looked forward and smiled to herself, flipping her ponytail absentmindedly.

Spock nodded and glanced at his communicator. He was unfamiliar with the term ‘tit’ and did not wish to ask. The two drove on for a short while longer until Nyota took a sharp turn onto a street with few other buildings. At the end of the street, on the left side, stood a wide building with bright lights and blacked-out windows. The large neon sign blinked “Lion Cub” as they stepped out of the car.

“What is this place?” Spock mused, nearly to himself as he followed Nyota to the door.

There was a large man standing at the front, behind a podium that didn’t seem to serve any purpose besides to hold his padd. A woman stood to his left side, leaning up against the podium, and grinned at them as well. They had entered a sitting room of sorts, with red couches to the right of the man. A door to the man’s right read, “Employees Only”, while the door to the left read, “18+”. Spock quickly looked away from the door and schooled his already apathetic expression.

The man shifted to his feet and grew even larger. He must have been sitting on a stool, and Nyota took an unconscious step back but didn’t otherwise show any intimidation. The man’s head was bald, and his skin a deep pink. He appeared mostly human, were it not for his abnormally large hands and green mohawk. Even the hair might be considered human, as the people of Earth had some interesting habits in terms of their grooming. The man, or Lorenzo as his nametag indicated, clenched his hands and released them again, making Spock meet his eyes out of habit. A long tongue slipped out to lip his thick lips and Spock’s own lips parted.

Damn, Hikaru was right. He might need to release some of his own sexual desires.

“Cover is $10,” Lorenzo said with a small smile.

“Would y’all like a table or booth tonight?” She asked, her green skin glittering under the blacklights. “Course you don’t have to, you can sit at the bar or at the little tables on the sides. But if you really want to have a guaranteed spot for the show I’d get you a table. Or a booth,” She chomped on some gum that had suddenly appeared and nodded at Nyota. “Your choice.”

Nyota, to her credit, seemed already extremely knowledgeable in the ways of this place and simply smiled her bright smile back. “We’ll take a booth near the front. Here are the cover and the table cost.” She pressed her chip against the padd and then swung her ponytail over her shoulder again. Spock coughed lightly.

The woman smiled at her and then gestured for them to follow her through the door. Spock swallowed hard and suddenly wished he could grip onto Nyota’s dress like a child following their mother in the store, hoping not to get lost.

“Don’t worry,” Nyota looked over her shoulder as though she could feel his anxiety, “You’re really gonna like this.”

The woman pushed open the door for them, holding it as she entered.

“Welcome to the Lion Cub!” She nearly squealed. Spock’s jaw dropped.

There were men. Men everywhere. Men in only pants and no shoes, men wearing only briefs, men in thongs and dancing with others and oh _god_ some of them were already looking in his direction as though he were something to be eaten up and--

Spock glared down at his hands, willing himself to control his own telepathy. He felt as though his lust might overtake him and betray him. Pressing his fingertips into his palm and curling them even farther, Spock followed the host and Nyota to their booth and heard something about a menu. He grabbed a sleek padd and tried to focus on the drinks and not the ever swinging crotches of the men around him. One of them, a Bajoran male, leaned over to whisper something into the ear of an Andorian who was watching Spock hungrily. The Andorian nodded fervently back and the two of them sipped from their drinks and wiggled their fingers in Spock's direction. He blinked and buried his nose against the padd screen.

Across the table, Nyota tapped her fingernails on the table. Waiting until he lowered his padd, she quirked her head at him.

“So,” she asked, a smirk threatening her lips, “What do you think of your first strip club?”

As the question hung in the air, there was a cheer from the stage area. Their booth was so close that it didn’t take much effort to turn and look at the stage. Spock couldn’t resist the flush that took over his cheeks as an Andorian man seemingly humped the stage and then began to strip off his shorts. Underneath he wore gold panties. The last thing Spock saw before turning his head away was two thumbs hooked into the waistband.

With as indignant of a tone as he could muster, Spock croaked out, “ _Strip club?_ ”

 


	2. The Swinging Pole

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When the initial shock wears off, Spock sees something he wants.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Thank you for sticking by this story if you're still reading. And if you're new, I hope you enjoy it!

Spock stared at the screen for lack of anywhere else to look. Across from him, Nyota calmly sipped from her glass. He couldn’t even look at the chocolate filled glass before him.

“Spock. You gotta stop this.”

Sighing out through his teeth, he made eye contact. Nyota was staring at him with an expression that seemed both bored and concerned at the same time, holding her hands under her chin and furrowing her brow. “Do you want to go home?”

Spock looked over at the stage. Through the glass barricade that must be there to keep men from grabbing at the performers, one man was holding the pole with a hand and teasing his thong with the other. He gripped it and twisted it in his hand, twirling the material around his fingers. A crowd of men and women of varying species whooped for him and threw bills onto the stage, and a couple were speaking to a guard of sorts, who nodded and wrote their names down on a padd near a door to the left of the stage. He looked down the man’s body to his rippling thighs, his tight legs, and the small piece of fabric that hid his privates.

“No,” He finally said, sipping from his own drink. Nyota eyed him.

“Okay. Good.” She swallowed her drink down in one gulp and motioned to the waiter. A short man with long bright orange hair and a huge smile approached the table. “Can I get 300 in cash, please?” Spock blanched.

“Certainly.” The little man bowed, batting huge eyes at Nyota, and disappeared into the crowd.

 

“Why do you need such a large amount of money?” He exclaimed. Nyota rolled her eyes.

 

“This is a strip club. I’m here with my horned up gay Vulcan friend.” The waiter appeared a moment later with bills. Nyota took them, examined them, and then handed the man a few. He bowed again and slipped away. “This is for you. Go spend it. Go crazy.”

 

“I can’t take this, Nyota. I earn much more money than you, it is only logical that I would be paying for my evening.”

Nyota huffed and Spock got the distinct impression that he was bothering her in some way. “Fine. You can just pay me back tomorrow. I really don’t care, but go up there and spend some money!” He nodded and took a large swig from his drink.

Across the room from them, a tall blue-skinned man was gently moving to the beat near a pool table. Spock looked him up and down, taking in his long legs and his short-cropped hair, and the way his silver shorts were riding up his behind in a way that seemed as though it must be uncomfortable but was somehow incredibly alluring. He looked up, and the man was staring back at him. With a quirk of his lips, the beautiful man turned leaned over the pool table, resting his head on his arm and making a slow circle with his hips. He tipped his head to the side, a beckon. Spock sighed out and looked back at Nyota, who seemed to have found her own companion in the room.

“Thank you,” He said finally, and gripped his glass with determination. In one swallow, he emptied the contents and let out a soft belch, admiring the smooth taste of such highbrow chocolate.

 

Nyota smiled brightly this time and handed him a large chunk of the bills. “There you are! Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna go see about getting a backroom with that handsome fella over there.” She stopped and tapped Spock on the sternum. “If you see something you like, just ask them for a private, okay? It’s fun. You’ll like it.”

With those final words, Nyota casually strolled across the room, followed by a man in green who had very thick thighs and large hands. 

Spock blinked several times, then forced himself off of the table and over to the Andorian male. His antennae bounced as he smiled, giving Spock’s body an appreciative once over. 

“Hey there beautiful,” The man seemed to say his words slowly, as though he were letting them roll out of his mouth. “Name’s Tony. You?”

“I am Spock. I would like a private with you.” Compared to Tony’s slow, casual way of speaking, Spock’s words seemed rushed and broken. He felt so wooden and stiff next to this elusive creature. Tony’s eyes went wide and his eyebrows shot to the middle of his forehead.

“Sure thing. We can do that as soon as you’d like.” He stood up, and Spock saw that the man was at least a head above him. The bulge in his shorts was noticeable. “It usually takes me way longer to get a guy like you in the back,” he said with a small laugh, gripping a bag that also strapped around his wrist.

Blood rose to Spock’s cheeks. “I’ve never been to a place like this,” he confessed. “I am... I am unsure as to-- how to proceed, as it were.” 

Tony grinned and nodded. “Here, you buy me a drink and we can sit for a bit until the next song starts. Then I’ll tell you the rules, and you decide what you wanna do. Okay?” He placed a reassuring hand on Spock’s shoulder, smiling down at him in a way that didn’t feel patronizing, yet understanding. After a quick nod, Spock led them to the bar in the corner of the room. He waited while Tony ordered, not sure what to do with himself. 

“Captain to the stage, the second call for Cap!” Came a voice over a loudspeaker somewhere. Spock looked around for the voice and saw a DJ on the right side of the stage pushing a microphone away. Tony plucked three bills from Spock’s hand and tossed them to the bartender, then pushed them gently away from the crowd gathered at the bar area. 

“So, they do that for the dancers who are up for the stage,” he said, his lips close to Spock’s ear. “That way we know that we’re supposed to go up, just in case we’re in a private, or taking a smoke outside, or taking a quick break... Or something.” The man laughed lightly, which prompted Spock to incline his head toward him. He didn’t quite understand what was funny, but something clearly humoured Tony. “So when the next song starts, it’ll be Cap’s turn on the stage, and you and I can head to the back. Sound good?”

Spock nodded. “It sounds amenable. How long shall we stay in our ‘private’?” 

Tony leaned his head back and whooped loudly, catching the attention of several near them. “Oh, I could stay back there all  _ night  _  with you honey. “ He shrugged and smirked down at Spock. “But I bet you didn’t bring enough money for that.” 

Spock shook his head, staring at the way Tony’s cold hands will occasionally brush his chest with his drink, the bag dangling off his wrist and bouncing against his toned stomach every so often. 

“It’s $25 a private, so $25 per song. If you wanna just do 15 minutes, that’s gonna be $100. Sound good?” 

“Captain, you’re up!”

A new song started and Tony jumped. “Oh! That’s our cue! Let’s head to the back really quick.” He placed two fingers on Spock’s wrist and began to lead him over to the man standing next to the left side of the stage. 

Holding his comm tightly in one hand and pressing his bills into his jean pocket, Spock tried to ignore the thudding of his heart in his side. The neon lights of the club flashed around him, making the pulsing music even more apparent as he approached the door leading to the apparent ‘back’.  Tony’s hips swayed tantalizingly ahead of him, and Spock focused his attention there rather than on his growing anxiety.

A loud whoop to Spock’s right caught his attention. He glanced over to see a flash of blonde and bright red near the stage. He stopped, transfixed by the man on the stage. 

Moving in perfect time to the beat was a male dancer, shaking his hips above him on the platform. Through the throng of people, he could barely see the blonde head of hair as the man threw his head back, tossing a wad of bills behind him. Spock’s mouth dropped open. Behind him, Tony was saying something. Spock did not hear him. He pushed his way through the shouting clubbers, brushing off Tony’s insistent tapping.

“One moment,” he murmured, and stared at the man on the stage. The performer, for his part, seemed completely emerged in his dance. He knelt on the stage, leaning back further on his haunches and rolling his hips against the air. He continued to lean back until he was laying completely flat against his legs, folded in half on the stage. Spock swallowed hard.

“One moment,” he said again to no one, slipping a bill under the clear panel that separated the stage from the audience. The man opened his eyes, just a sliver, and glanced down toward Spock’s hand. They locked eyes with each other. 

“ _ God,  _ I want to fuck Cap so bad,” a pale woman next to him sighed out. Several girls surrounding her clucked in agreement and clamored even harder against the stage. 

Cap. Spock looked at the tan-skinned, beautiful yellow-haired man who was now looking at him with a slowly growing smile, pulling himself to his feet. He stood straight above Spock, only his hips swaying to the club music. His red underwear hugged his body, barely hiding any of his curves and displaying every bulge for the club to see. With a wink in Spock’s direction, he turned on the ball of his foot and swung his hips around a pole in the middle of the stage. As Cap held the pole, the pole itself moved as well and twirled in time with Cap’s body. He moved his hips parallel to the pole and spread his legs in a straddle, then quirked an eyebrow at Spock. 

Spock slipped another bill under the partition. Behind him, someone sighed. 

“Every goddamn  _ time _ ,” the voice said. 

Onstage, Cap was still climbing, pulling his leg over his shoulder in a split and pressing his crotch hard against the pole.

“I’d like to get a private,” Spock said to the man next to the stage. He looked up at Cap, who was now scooping up his bills and staring at him. The man bent over, keeping eye contact, and wiggled his ass. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for stopping by! Feel free to leave a comment or a suggestion below, and I really do appreciate your words and kudos. If anyone would want to beta each other's works and proofread anything, please let me know. I'm currently in a very high level English writing class and I'm in such an editing mood.... for everything except for my own work.


	3. Touch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spock pays for his time with the man from the stage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyyy so sorry about disappearing for months yikes  
> I graduated recently and I've been going back to this over and over but it's just never been up to my standard, I suppose? Ugh. Completely unbeta'd. I know I have mistakes and no, I will not apologize for them (jk im so sorry im an english minor and i still suck im SORRY)

Spock stood awkwardly to the side of the stage, unsure of what to do next. The tall man who guarded the red curtain leading to the “back” told him that Cap would be notified of the request and come meet him, but anxiety still made his blood thrum. Should he buy a drink for Cap? He glanced over to the bar. It would seem suspicious if he brought an uncovered beverage to a half-naked male before they went to a ‘private’ dance. Nyota had disappeared to some table in the vicinity. For a moment, Spock considered why he’d even agreed to come to this establishment. Soliciting the time of half-naked was far beyond his usual activities.

Perhaps that was the point. His usual proclivity for decorum seldom led him to anything beyond the ordinary, even in his own research. Beyond his previous bond to an old Vulcan classmate, T’Pring, Spock had never courted another. He’d had admirers, he’d noticed, but they seemed superficial or simply after his affections for personal gain. 

He smoothed the front of his sweater. This was his night.

For lack of anything better to do, Spock shoved his hands into his back pockets and leaned against the partition next to the stage, attempting to look casual. The partition gave way, causing him to shift backwards. He clumsily stood back up, glancing back to see the pole wobble before righting itself. A soft chuckle came from behind him. Spock spun on his heel to see him.

Cap.

The beautiful man from the stage.

The man that  _ he,  _ a simple lecturer, would be able to touch, touch  _ privately _ .

Sweet Surak, was he anything but prepared.

Cap looked up at him from beneath long dark lashes. 

“Hey there,” he said sweetly. He canted his hips to the side. Cap had changed from his lacy red bottoms to dark purple briefs. He wore plush sandals on his feet.

Spock stared at his feet. “Hello.” His eyes were glued to the perfect pedicure.

The slippers moved, one shifting behind the other. “Quit looking at my feet.” Spock’s eyes snapped back up to Cap’s face. The young man’s tanned skin now had a flush of pink splashed across his cheeks and nose. He rubbed a finger under his nose and sniffed shallowly. “I’m insecure about them.”

“Then I shall not draw any more attention to them.” Spock continued to take in Cap’s appearance. The man was slight, but with broad shoulders and strong legs. He strode up to Spock, hips swaying. 

“We don’t get many Vulcans.”

Cap was sizing him up. “I don’t often attend to places like this.” He replied.

This made Cap’s eyes narrow.

“Would you like a drink?” Spock felt completely out of place in this situation. He’d technically paid for time, time in a room to speak privately with this amazing specimen, yet he felt judged. The last thing he’d want was for Cap not to enjoy their time together. Spock swallowed. It was a strange feeling, to know that he’d already bought this beautiful man’s company. Would it matter if Cap liked him at all? Cap twisted his lips to one side and huffed out a breath. He then stepped back and grinned brightly.

“Sure!”

Spock wanted to bask in the light of that smile for the rest of his life. He risked a small touch on Cap’s back, pressing his hand into the sweet curve of it, feeling Cap lean back into him.

“Hm,” Cap sighed. The soft motion that came with it made Spock braver. He slid his hand down to Cap’s outer hip, shifting him closer to Spock, and led them both over to the bar. Through the crowd, other dancers and attendees to the club were staring. But when Cap’s golden hair brushed Spock’s shoulder, he realized he did not care. Cap’s skin felt warm under his fingers, sending a tingle through his hand. He curled tighter against that heat.

“I’ll get a Tibetan Mai Tai.” Cap spoke confidently. He leaned up against the counter. Spock took a step back, reluctantly releasing him and allowing the other man to order for himself. The bartender nodded and turned to make the drink, and Cap turned back toward Spock.

“So,” he cocked his head to the side. “What in the universe is a Vulcan doing in a place like this?” 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“ ‘Ey Cap, you got a private waiting.” Jake motioned him over. He held out a towel and robe. Jim stepped down the stairs at the back of the stage and took the towel, swiping it over his face. 

“Thanks.” He tossed the towel into the laundry basket and shook his hair out. “Is it Fowler again?” Fowler was one of Jim’s long-time regulars. He came in almost every night, buying a staged private. Fowler’d never touched him, which was a bit disconcerting, to say the least. For a man who was willing to spend literally hundreds of dollars on him, he sure came off as a prude.

“Nah.” Jake, one of Jim’s favourite bouncers, draped the robe over his shoulders. “It’s some new dude. He’s got a funny haircut.”

“You shouldn’t make fun of people’s hair.”

“Well his hair is weird. And he talked really-like-- formal? I dunno, he seems nervous. Think he might be on the spectrum.” Jake grinned at Jim, narrowing his eyes playfully. “You gotta really show him a good time, Kirk.” He elbowed Jim in the ribs.

Jim glared in response. “I’d think you’d know better than to call me that here,  _ Jake _ .” Jake’s cover name was Tiger, which Jim thought was a little gratuitous considered his kind nature outside of the club. Jake raised his hands in defense. 

“Whatever dude. He paid for a regular private, so here’s your percent. You should probably avoid Tony though, I think you stole him with your stage set.”

As Jake walked away, Jim inwardly groaned. It wasn’t his fault that men flocked to him like bees to a flower. As he headed back to the dressing room, he glanced in one of the backstage mirrors. His cheeks were flushed and his blonde hair looked more brown as it stuck to his forehead. Jim frowned and wiped at the sweat with the sleeve of his robe. Avoiding the other men in the dressing room, he punched his code into his locker. Since this was a new guy, he really had to impress if he wanted a returning customer. Simply seducing them from the stage wasn’t enough. He’d have to change and make himself irresistible. Suppressing a yawn, Jim reapplied his deodorant and spritzed an extra bit of cologne under his chin, behind each earlobe, and behind his kneecaps. 

He thought about the description Jake gave. Awkward, nervous, probably from out of town by the sounds of his accent and haircut. Jim’s eyes darted around the room. He lowered the bottle and sprayed the inside of each thigh as well. 

The other men in the room were busily lotioning themselves up in the mirror, so Jim simply looked toward his profile as he walked past. 

His eyes were bloodshot, red from fatigue and from the sweat dripping off his forehead and through his lashes. Jim pressed his hand against his stomach, as though he could make it flatten even more by sheer force. He’d always been stocky, though lots of the men and women in this club seemed to love the muscular look. 

He settled for sucking in. The hallway out to the floor seemed longer than usual. Jim’s legs ached from his set, and his wallet bounced against his back. Jake met him by the stage. 

“Which one?” Jim asked with a sigh. Jake opened his mouth just as there was a metal  _ clank _ to their left. They both looked.

A man, tall and thin, yet not too thin, had accidentally knocked against one of the poles leading to the stage. His hair was cut in a straight line across his forehead, just over his slanted eyebrows. When he hit the pole, those brows furrowed slightly and he stared at the pole as though it had personally offended him. Jim was struck with the strange urge to laugh.

Jake nodded toward him. “That’s the guy.”

“You’re kidding me?” Jim whipped his head back to Jake, who was staring at the customer with a sombre expression.

“Nope.” He clapped Jim on the back. “Give him hell, kid,” he grinned, taking Jim’s robe when he shucked it off. “I think he needs it.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Spock’s mind went blank at Cap’s question. “I am simply here due to an invitation.” His fingers itched to touch Cap’s beautiful tanned skin again. “A friend asked me to come out tonight.” A glass slid across the counter and brushed Cap’s shoulder. He barely glanced over as he retrieved it and took a long sip, holding the straw in between his index finger and thumb. Electric blue eyes peered at Spock over the metal mug.

“So you came for a good time?” Cap’s lips drew Spock in. He wanted to soak up every word that the other man spoke.

“Yes,” Spock murmured. He stepped closer. Although his heart thudded in his side, he forced himself to bring his hand to Cap’s back. “And when I watched you dance, it appeared that you were a ‘good time’ to be had.” 

Cap blinked at him through those lashes again. Spock stilled. Cap’s face was carefully controlled. He sipped again and then shook off Spock’s hand.

“The back is this way,” he breathed, walking to the red curtain without stopping. The heavy beat of the music made Spock’s blood pulse in time.

“You got a regular, right?” Cap asked as the man at the curtain held it aside for the two of them. There was a hallway with two doorways on each side. Cap led them to the second doorway the left, pausing with his hand against the frame.

Spock nodded. Cap stared at him for a moment, then turned back toward the open room. Forcing his eyes on the blonde head in front of him, rather than the room, Spock spoke once again.

“What--exactly-- does a regular private entail?” He pulled at the collar of his sweater. Cap looked over his shoulder and smiled sweetly at him.

“Follow me,” the man said, his voice a soft caress.

It took everything in Spock not to stumble as he followed Cap into the area. The dimly lit room had dark walls, and sofas pressed up against every wall. Men sat on the couches, several with women on their laps. They seemed to be moving sensually against each other. One man in the corner was actually on top of another man, grinding down against him.

Cap led them to a couch in the very back of the room. He set his wallet down on the table beside the sofa and slipped out of his shoes.

“C’mere,” he beckoned. Spock shook himself. The room seemed too small, and his feet felt stuck to the dingy carpet. Taking a moment to be sure that his shields were firmly in place, he closed the rest of the distance between Cap and himself. Leather peeled under his fingers as Spock curled his hands into the fabric of the couch.

“So,” Cap leaned forward on the heel of his hands, “Spock, I know you’re Vulcan.” His big blue eyes trained in on Spock. They seemed so open, so knowing. Spock longed to reach out and stroke his hair, to dive deep into his skin. “I thought you don’t do touching, you know, ‘cuz of the whole ‘touch telepath’ thing?” His eyelids fluttered downward. “If you don’t want me to touch you--,”

Cap let out a soft gasp as Spock grabbed at his hips, lifting the man onto his lap. He pressed his nose into Cap’s neck and breathed in deep. Warmth seeped through Cap’s skin, and Spock drank it all. The smaller man curled against him, jutting his hips and beginning to grind against Spock. 

He grabbed Cap’s hips. Their eyes locked. 

“I apologize,” Spock began, “I simply-- I’d like to touch you.” He waited for the telltale signs of confusion, the distrust and uneasiness that would follow. 

Cap stared at him for a long moment, then nodded. He pressed himself close to Spock, but simply held his body in place. “You can touch me all you want,” he whispered, and a deep shiver ran down Spock’s spine.

He slipped a hand up Cap’s back, and another down his thigh, palming the muscle.

“You are... you are so be _ autiful _ ,” Spock whispered. The squeaking of the other couches in the room fell away as he leaned against Cap. They lowered back onto the hot sofa, Cap’s body under Spock’s. Cap was staring up at him with those bright eyes, now half-lidded. A dark red flush had spread through his cheeks, leaving splotches across his face.

The bare skin before Spock drew him in. Cap smiled, a shy little thing, and stretched his leg, lengthening the back of his knee. The pad of his barefoot kissed Spock’s thigh.

“Thanks,” he murmured. Spock took the foot into his hand and rubbed small circles into the arch. Cap’s eyes drifted closed. A quiet sigh escaped his lips. “That-- uh, um that feels good.”

“Your skin feels good.”

“Thanks, I was kind of surprised that you didn’t want a-- oh!” Spock had run his thumb across the top of Cap’s knee, hoping to find any points on him that would draw a reaction. “Um, a staged private.”

“Why is that?” Spock continued his exploration of Cap’s body, pressing his ear down to listen for the human’s heartbeat. Cap’s arm jerked, his hand raising to Spock’s head reflexively.

“Um, just because I know how Vulcans are about touch. You’re not fans of it, typically. I heard.” Spock nodded, continuing to run his hands up and down Cap’s side as he timed his breathing with the beat of the other man’s heart. “I just assumed you’d probably be more comfortable with a guy dancing full naked in front of you rather than, than um..,”

Spock watched his fingertips leave indents on Cap’s chest, just beside his nipples. “Rather than this?” Cap stilled for a moment and rested his hand on the nape of Spock’s neck, not letting himself relax just yet.

“Yeah.”

Rising above Cap, the man seemed to shrink slightly in on himself. “Do you speak this candidly with all of your customers?”

Cap’s eyes flashed. “Only the ones that I deem interesting.”

“I’m glad to have interested you.”

“Well, it’s easy to pique my interest but hard to keep it.” Their eyes challenged each other in intensity. Spock looked away.

“I am only half-Vulcan.” Cap’s eyes widened. He said nothing. Slowly, Spock lowered himself back down, allowing those soft humans hands to run through his hair again. Between the gentle touch of Cap’s hands and the soft heartbeat against his cheek, he thought he might stay here forever.

Suddenly, a hand pressed against his head and forced him to sit up, stopping him in his tracks.

He looked up, seeing Cap biting his lip. “I apologize, did I hurt you?”

Cap shook his head in response. “No, um. Our time is up.” He looked away.

Spock thought he’d been doused in cold water. He forced himself to remain neutral.

“Of course. I understand.”

“Um, Spock-,” Cap began, but Spock was already standing and yanking his hands behind his back.

“Thank you for your time.” He couldn’t look at the man below him. Cap licked his lips, a tantalizing sight, and slipped his feet back into his shoes. “We will leave the way we entered?” Cap nodded. Spock turned and swiftly exited the room. He did not look behind him, or wait for the other man.

After a quick scan of the dance floor, Spock spotted Nyota near the bar with a couple of other girls. He made a quick beeline over to her, resting a hand on her shoulder. She whipped around immediately, clearly ready to fight whoever had touched her. Her face softened at the sight of Spock.

“Hey! I was looking all over for you earlier. Where’d you slip off- Spock?”

Discomfort was clearly written all over his face. “I must leave, Nyota.” Blood thrummed in his ears. There were suddenly too many people in the vicinity, their thoughts threatening to break through his controls. Spock squeezed his eyes shut as though not looking at the other patrons would make them disappear completely.

“Sure, sure of course,” Nyota wrapped a strong hand around his bicep, calling out to someone else in the club. Spock forced his eyes open and kept them trained on the floor instead. Nyota took over, leading them to the door and out to the lot.

On the way back to this apartment, her quick glances felt like daggers on his face. His throat felt thick and dry. Once they’d stopped outside of his complex, Nyota opened her mouth. “Spock, if you--”,

“It is of no matter, Nyota,” he gritted out, and shut the door to her hovercar.

His apartment was dark and cold. The air’s stillness reminded him of Vulcan, with its cold nights and the quiet sounds of the desert. In the privacy of his living room, Spock allowed himself to recognize his human side. He sat down heavily upon his couch, dropping his keys on the table. This entire night had been so humiliating, so em _ barrassing _ . For a moment, he’d almost considered. Perhaps if he were normal, whether it be human or Vulcan, he’d be able to find a mate regularly, not having to practically rent one for the evening. Cap’s skin had felt so smooth, so soft under his fingertips. They tingled now, reaching out for the man. 

With a frustrated grunt, Spock wrenched himself toward the restroom. He flipped on the light and gripped the cool countertop. 

“You will _never_ ,” he began. This was no use. Spock looked at himself in the mirror. A half-breed stared back. “Never.” His throat constricted from the words. “You will never find a bondmate. You cannot waste your time, nor your earnings on beautiful men who-- who give you a second glance.”   
His fingers curled on the counter but he forced himself to keep staring at his reflection. “It is a fruitless endeavour to search for a lifelong partner. You will be bonded out of necessity, not love. For you are of two worlds and none--,” Spock drew in a sharp breath and blew it out, just as harshly.

“None can possibly love you.” The counter groaned as he released it. The pads of his fingers ached. Spock removed his sweater, then his trousers and looked once again at his reflection in the mirror. He curled up in his bed, shoving the blankets away illogically. The cool air felt good on his overheated skin.

If he were human, he thought, he might have cried.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. Please leave a comment and let me know what you think, my characterization, etc. I'm still on Tumblr and I'm still awkward af


	4. Jim

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! We're at the end! Thanks so much for your support for this story, even though it took me 5 months to just write 4 chapters (i am so sorry)  
> I appreciate everyone who comments and subscribes and leaves me a kudos!! Feel free to just, you know, keep doing any of that even though the story is over. I'm still working on my other work "You're the Origin of Love", plus a couple of other Spirk projects. Everything is unbeta'd! All my mistakes (and I know there must be plenty that I missed, even with my intense editing process *smh*) are my own.  
> Y'all rock.

Jim brushed over the back of his knees with a baby wipe and stuffed several pairs of underwear into his bag. His fingers trembled as he pulled the drawstring and waited to sign out at the padd by the door. Before he was off for the night, he’d have to let the club officially know that he’d left so that he could be escorted out to the private parking lot. Just in case.

The evening had gone as usual, except for that random patron, the Vulcan.

 

Spock.

 

His hands had been so soft. Jim let his eyes flutter shut, the ghost of Spock’s fingertips brushing gingerly against his body, as though he were a treasure, a jewel. No one had touched him like that. Ever. He sighed. Vulcans were supposed to have super sensitive hands, which seemed strange given that Spock had been leisurely touching his bare skin for 15 straight minutes just earlier that night.

The more Jim thought about it, the stranger that fact seemed. Too strange to leave his mind. After about 5 more minutes of reading the same sentence over and over again, he set down his textbook and grabbed his padd. With some quick manoeuvring of the server, he was able to get to a page detailing the sensitivity of Vulcan digits. There’s only so much that would show up from searching, “What does it mean when a Vulcan runs their hands all over you??”

Several articles appeared. Jim balked.

His eyes danced over the words, drinking in the truth of the situation.

 

Spock had been kissing him.

 

Those soft touches, the quick little presses on his skin, barely allowing his fingerprints to leave a mark on Jim’s body-- all tiny kisses. No wonder the entire private had felt more sensual than usual. Strangely enough, this information didn’t anger him. Jim swallowed and shifted on the bed. Spock- this man he’d met at the club, of all places- had been placing soft kisses all over his body all night, making out with him without his permission. His cock swelled, the hard organ pressing against the crotch of his loose joggers. He shifted again. The problem refused to go away.

Maybe, Jim considered for a moment. His hand hovered over the front of his pants, shaking for a moment. Then he pressed down, gripping himself firmly but softly. Like Spock might grab his cock. Jim took in a shuddering breath. The temperature in the room suddenly seemed too hot. He ripped off his shirt, closing his eyes in relief when the cooler air hit his sweat-soaked back. Sharp needles of pleasure pricked at the base of his spine when he leaned further back on his bed, relaxing into the pillows, and took himself into his hand again. Spock’s face floated into his mind. Those big brown eyes filled with wonder, exploring his body. Jim let out a soft ‘hmm’ and removed his hardness from his pants. Spock was really beautiful. If he thought about it. He sighed, allowing himself to grip his cock harder and begin to pump. Pre-cum leaked from his tip, and he swiped his thumb quickly over the head. Maybe Spock had wanted to touch him like this. The thought excited him. Jim swallowed hard and pumped himself faster, tightening his hold, remembering the happiness in Spock’s eyes, the desire in his gaze when he’d watched Jim onstage. Spock wanted him. A blur of light in his vision and a sudden “hah-- _hah--!_ ” and he was releasing all over his hand, groaning into the air.

Jim lay on his back for a long while, mind wandering to random thoughts. One thing was for sure. He needed to find this professor, or cadet, or whoeverthis guy was. And he needed to be touched by him again.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Spock swept quickly through the documents on his padd. Without even looking at the clock, he knew he had only around 45 minutes left to entertain any possible students or faculty that decided to stop by for office hours. Only a handful of students had decided to meet with him, to correct various academic grades or discuss internships for the summer. Most of his students were enjoyable cadets with a true passion for learning, with a few standouts who possessed a keen eye and deep longing for exploration and peace. One of those students was his now close friend, Uhura. Spock checked his comm. It would be good to call her later, to discuss the events of the previous night. Though it seemed normal for a strip club, Vulcans never engaged in such fanciful activities. A knock at the door pulled him from his thoughts.

Setting his padd and papers aside, he rose to answer the office door. When he opened it, a blonde man, slightly shorter and stockier than him, stood in the hallway, looking as though he’d rather be anywhere but in front of Spock’s door.

 

Cap.

Cap was at the door. The beautiful man from the strip club, the one who Spock could have spent many more hours lying beside, the one who had invaded his daydreams and nightmares, stood before him. Cap’s eyes were wide. He blinked once and suddenly clutched his book tighter to his chest, seeming to shrink in on himself. Spock stared back at him.

“Cadet--”

 

“HimynameisJimKirkandIwanttobeyourfriend!” The man exclaimed. He squeezed his eyes shut and shoved his hand out in the ta’al. Something about the gesture felt more like a peace offering than a greeting.

“I’m sorry,” Spock said, and the man’s face fell. “I didn’t catch your-- your name.” The words ‘real name’ had almost slipped from his mouth. He didn’t know how the other might take that phrase.

“Jim,” the blonde said. He took a deep breath in again and opened his eyes. “James Kirk. Everyone calls me Jim. I mean in real life, not at a club. Can I come in?” He pushed past Spock without asking. Spock blinked. Pulling the door shut behind him, he whirled to see Jim sitting on the couch tensely clutching at his books.

“Cadet... Kirk?” At his name, Jim jumped, but he simply nodded fervently again. “Are you alright? To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?”

Jim set his books on Spock’s table gingerly and pressed his palms into the fabric of his regulation slacks. “Um, I liked talking to you last night and uh, I like, decided to look you up? I guess? So yeah, I came here. I don’t know why. Um.” Jim wasn’t looking at him. Spock sat down primly on the other side of the couch.

“I enjoyed speaking with you as well. I admit that I did not know how to contact you.” He cleared his throat before continuing, and Jim’s right hand curled into a fist, then disappeared to clutch at his other arm. “Is there any reason you wished to have a... a discussion?”

Jim shook his head once, sharply. “Um. I just, I um.”

Spock waited. This man, still stunningly gorgeous in his cadet uniform, had seemed so self-assured and so sultry last night. Now, he seemed nervous and jumpy. His bravado had disappeared. “I was wondering if you were um, kissing me? With your fingers? I mean when we were in the back. It’s not a big deal, I just really liked it, you know. A lot. And I wasn’t sure if I could maybe do that with you again? Or something, I don’t know, it’s not a big-a big deal,” Jim trailed off. Spock inhaled.

“Where did you hear that my touches were kisses?”

Jim didn’t look at him. “Looked it up.”

“You ascertained this information from ‘looking up’ Vulcan kisses?”

“Okay, I hacked a bit. I just wanted to know!” He turned those big glacier-blue eyes onto Spock again. “Were you?”

The intensity of Jim’s gaze forced the truth from him before he could stop himself, think better of it. “Yes. In a way.”

Jim seemed to sigh with relief. Spock’s stomach felt tight and his throat seemed to constrict. Jim had wanted his touches to be inappropriate? Surely such actions were indecent, even for a sexual establishment like the Lion Cub. He continued. "I was in control of my faculties, as Vulcans cannot simply kiss others on accident, however...," Spock cleared his throat. "For your understanding, I was indeed kissing you."

“Well, that’s pretty cool to know.” Jim turned to face him. “You know. Cuz that means you think I’m cute, right?” Spock nodded. He found Jim to be wildly attractive. “Cool. I think you’re pretty cute too.” Jim blinked slowly at him, not unlike a cat, and quirked the side of his mouth upward. “So, I was thinking about you for the rest of the night. And for part of this morning.” Jim was so warm. Jim was so close to him, he could touch him if he wanted. Still catlike, Jim leaned toward him and without a warning, covered Spock’s mouth with his own. The world stopped. Jim’s lips were soft, gentle, supple against his own. 

Before he knew it, he was reciprocating Jim’s actions, his mouth moving on its own accord. Jim made a soft noise of surprise and Spock drank it up, swallowing it with his tongue. His hands were shaking, and he felt wrecked just from the pheromones on Jim’s skin. It was obvious that the human was enjoying this just as much as he was.

They lapped into each other’s mouths, Jim sliding further toward one end of the couch and pulling Spock with him, never breaking their kiss. The air seemed to buzz with the electricity between them. And then, suddenly, Jim had pulled sharply away from him. Spock made an undignified noise at the loss of contact. He immediately righted himself, but Jim only stared at him with huge blue eyes and swollen, dark pink lips.

“You-you have office hours!”

Spock blinked back at him. “Yes.” That’s why it had been so easy for Jim to find him. Why was Jim stating random facts at a moment like this?

Jim giggled, and delicately hid the movement behind his hand. He looked so beautiful that Spock thought he might melt into the couch right there.

“No, honey, no I mean that someone could walk in. If you wanted to... you know,” Jim raised an eyebrow at him. Spock blinked again. No one would just walk in. They’d surely knock first. He wasn’t sure what Jim wanted to do, but he didn’t wish to stop.

Jim sighed and rose from the couch, holding up a hand to Spock’s protests. He turned the lock on the door and switched off the light. “There. Now you’ve left the office for a moment.” He leaned into Spock’s personal space, settling himself and placing a hand on either of Spock’s legs. “We won’t get bothered, now.”

Spock pounced. Jim’s body was strong and solid in his arms, and though he was fully clothed this time, Spock could still feel the gorgeous lines of his naked body when he held Jim in his arms. He pressed into that warm soft mouth again. The quiet noises that Jim made were making his head spin, and he wanted to crawl inside of Jim’s mind and never leave.

They stayed like that, lips locked together, hands caressing more and more of each other’s bodies for a few minutes until Jim shifted to sit beside Spock on the couch.

“C’ mere,” he murmured in Spock’s ear. Jim’s hands shifted to grip Spock’s butt, lifting him and settling him onto his lap. Jim moved him for a moment, adjusting, and then squeezed him tight, pulling Spock even closer. “I fucking love your ass.”

The words went straight to Spock’s cock. He moved against Jim, forcing their clothed erections together. Jim hissed and reached for Spock’s zipper.

Everything was happening so quickly. Spock blinked and he’d been shimmied out of his pants and set back down on Jim’s lap. His regulation slacks were gone, tossed somewhere beside him and Jim’s zipper was exposing his briefs.

“Jim, Jim I--”, Spock stuttered out as Jim reached into his underwear and pressed a large hand against his bulge.

“Yeah, hon?” Jim whispered, licking at his neck and suckling the skin under his chin.

“Jim perhaps we, perhaps we might slow down?” Spock panted out. Jim jerked away as though he’d been burned.

“Jesus, fuck yes, I’m so sorry!” Jim gathered Spock up into his arms and pulled them horizontally back onto the couch so that Spock lay straddling the other man. “I’m so so sorry, I don’t know what came over me.”

“It is of no matter,” Spock replied, being careful that his voice didn’t betray too much of his arousal. “I simply wished to stop, for a moment.” Jim’s fingers drew soft circles in his back, a comforting and calming motion. Spock could feel his desire through their touching skin, and also his patience. Jim was... happy. Jim was happy that he’d asked them to stop, yet he still desired Spock.

As though he could hear his thoughts, Jim spoke. “I’m glad you stopped us, hon.” He laughed, but it sounded forced. “I wouldn’t want you to feel uncomfortable. Ever.” Spock shifted on top of Jim, pressing their erections together once again. Jim drew a sharp breath.

Spock moved his head so that his lips kissed Jim’s ear. “I did not wish to stop,” he murmured, undulating his hips against the human below him. Jim’s hands reached up to grab his cheeks, spreading them. “I simply wished to slow down.”

“Fucking _damn it--_ ”

Jim flipped them and immediately assaulted Spock’s mouth with his own, shoving a hand down Spock’s pants and pulling out his cock. He enclosed it within his fist, jerking roughly. The pleasure was incredible. Jim’s hand was extraordinary- much more pleasing than whenever Spock had ever touched himself.

Jim paused for a moment to pull out his cock and gnashed his teeth into Spock’s neck. Spock threw his head back, biting back a groan, as Jim took the opportunity to bite and suck at the exposed flesh on his neck. Their cocks, now free and naked, rubbed against each other, trapped between their legs. Jim reached between them to grip both of their members in his hand and pull, and pull and pull. He kissed Spock hard on the mouth as he grabbed roughly onto his ass.

“Fuck, your ass is so hot,” he panted, swallowing Spock up in another kiss. Spock’s head spun. There were so many sensations, from Jim’s hand on his ass to Jim’s other hand on his cock, Jim kissing his neck, sucking on his tongue, Jim’s legs trapping his tight on the couch. His mind swam. The pleasure could only rise. Behind him, between his butt cheeks, Jim was pressing a single finger against his perineum. The area, similar to humans, was an erogenous zone. This wasn’t common knowledge, yet Jim was rubbing him there as if he knew- had he perhaps done research before arriving at Spock’s office? Jim’s finger shifted upward, against his hole. Spock jerked his head back again.

Jim chuckled against his chest. “You like that?”

“I-yes, Jim.” Spock swallowed thickly. Jim’s fist tightened around his cock. His finger traced the rim of muscle there, dipping in for a moment before pulling out again. Spock threw his head back into the couch cushion, but Jim held him tight and strong. With the pleasure building more and more, Jim was there, grounding him.

“You want more?”

“Yes, Jim.”

“Yeah?”

“Please,” Spock thought he could cry. Jim was now pumping him, hard and fast, with one fist and fucking him with his index finger on his other hand. Spock’s eyes were wide, he knew, but he saw nothing. Jim kissed his lips, a soft peck, before pulling out completely. He groaned at the loss and Jim kissed him again.

“I wanna fuck you.”

Spock froze. His cock grew even harder at the words, bouncing against his stomach. He breathed in, deep and slowly. “I have never...” he trailed off, avoiding Jim’s incredulous gaze.

“Are you serious?” Spock sniffed and stared away from Jim, who was no doubt seconds from laughing at him. To his surprise, Jim did not laugh. Instead, he pressed his thumb against Spock’s lower lip, his eyebrows drawn together in concern. “I’m sorry, I just, I didn’t mean it like that.” Their lips touched, the softest of motions. “You’re gorgeous. And you deserve to get eaten out.”

Spock felt his eyebrows draw together this time. “Eaten out?” Jim laughed in response, and Spock decided that he rather enjoyed Jim laughing.

“Oh honey, let me show you.”

 

After they’d cleaned up, and Jim was straightening his jacket while Spock stared at the floor, uncertainty set in. Jim said nothing, facing away from him. Perhaps he no longer wished to speak of this. Perhaps this was to resolve the tension from the previous night. Spock thought back through his actions. He hadn’t done wrong, not that he could surmise. With a sickening realization, Spock considered the possibility that his inexperience had not been pleasurable for Jim. His heart twisted in his side as he watched Jim smooth his hair with his flat palm and turn to face him.

“That was fun, sweetheart.” He winked. Spock glanced away, staring instead at his own hands. The couch indented beside him. “Listen, give me a call sometime if you feel up to it. I wouldn’t mind seeing you again, Professor.” Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Jim touch a comm to his own on the table, and the weight beside him disappeared. With a soft kiss to Spock’s cheek, Jim was gone.

As the door closed behind him, Spock allowed himself to focus on the throbbing deep within his stomach. Was it even possible that Jim had reached him there, in his most sacred of parts? The sudden reminder of Jim’s body pressed against his and his lips on Spock’s neck threatened arousal again. He swallowed. A small bit of wetness seeped from his aching hole. But perhaps.... perhaps he hadn’t performed well enough. The shock of possible insufficiency made his arousal wilt. Fear overtook him instead. He’d allowed another man to penetrate him, and as if it weren’t enough, he’d allowed his first time to be carried out in his own office. Starfleet cadets were still milling about on campus. How incredibly careless could he be?

Spock stared at his closed office door. Thankfully, no one had knocked while they’d been engaged in coitus, and Jim was not a particularly vocal lover, or at least he hadn’t been during their coupling. Still, the danger of being caught in such an indecent situation with a student was unacceptable. How had a simple longing for touch turned into this?

After several shaky breaths, Spock lowered himself onto his office floor and crossed his legs. He didn’t even bother to light any candles or incense before slipping into meditation.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“You’re not gonna get him to text you back faster by wearing a hole in our carpet.” Jim only glared at Bones in response, but stopped his pacing in their shared apartment and fell into the armchair instead.

“Okay but like? It’s been a week? I texted him as _soon_ as I left his office and I wasn’t even weird!” It was true. As soon as he left Spock’s office, after a very rousing round of sex, which was especially impressive given that it was supposedly Spock’s first time, he had messaging Spock thanking him for the time and suggesting that they meet up again some time. That was Friday afternoon. It was now Saturday morning, a week later. He’d sent a couple of funny texts for two days afterwards, but then stopped contacting Spock altogether.   
“I just-I don’t get it Bones, maybe I was bad?” He ran his hand through his hair and thought back through their actions that afternoon.

“No. It couldn’t possibly be true.” Bones deadpanned at him.

“I’m serious, dude. He was so sweet and honest, and I feel really bad. Maybe he only said yes to like, try and satisfy me or something.” Jim groaned. “I bet he didn’t even want to fuck me, dude... God, I’m such an asshole.”

Bones simply shrugged.

“Wow, thanks, dude.” He scowled at his roommate until he snapped his book shut and sighed.

“Fine. You wanna know what I really think?” Jim nodded. He didn’t. But it was probably necessary. “I think that you fucked a Vulcan, and Vulcan you don’t know. I can’t spill details, and even I don’t know all of them, but they’re a funny bunch. They don’t do casual sex, they don’t do hookups. But he did! With you!”

Bone stood up and strode into the kitchen, grabbing a glass from the dishrack. “He fucked you, probably the first guy he ever slept with, and I’m thinking he’s probably pretty excited ‘bout it. So here are my two cents here- it’s a few things that coulda happened.” He filled the glass with water and came back to the living room, setting it down on the table between them. “He could have fucked you and realized that he made a mistake and that he only wanted to do it cuz you got him all hot and bothered at a strip club, he coulda realized he didn’t actually wanna do you but he did because you were there and now he regrets it, or maybe he feels bad for doin’ you without dating you first.” Jim avoided his gaze. “Now, given how enthusiastic you so graciously described him being to you, I’m thinking it’s the last one.”

With that, Bones picked up his study supplies and walked toward his bedroom. “If he’s not talking to you, he’s probably just nervous. Go ask him and find out for sure so that you stop worrying. And so I stop hearing ‘bout it either way.”

Jim didn’t answer, and he didn’t move from the couch even after Bones had slammed his door shut, probably locking himself in to study for the next 10 hours. But his surly roommate was right. He’d never find out if he didn’t straight up ask Spock, and Spock wasn’t going to answer him over a communicator.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Spock considered the package in his hands. Amanda had shipped them from Vulcan after he’d mentioned his emotions being unstable lately. He turned them over, surveying the ingredients and cooking instructions. They were made from local vegetables, and his mother had picked them up from the market for him. “It might be good to have a taste of home,” her note read. He couldn’t help but agree with her.

After setting the noodles to boil, Spock unfolded a blanket from the back of his couch and wrapped himself up, settling back into his cushion. It was not often that he allowed himself to indulge in simple pleasures such as this, making a meal for himself, taking time to relax and read from one of the paper books his mother bought him. For what it was worth, and for what he was able, Spock felt abnormally.... cozy.

 

Acknowledging his happiness sent a thrill down his spine. These were the moments he needed to soak up, moments where he was happy and healthy and alive. The past week had been stressful. He refused to respond to Cadet Kirk’s messages. Getting involved with a cadet, especially one who no doubt had his choice of sexual partner, was risky. He couldn’t allow himself to become attached. However, curled up in his apartment, holding one of his favourite childhood books, with tea and dinner soon to be ready, Spock felt good.

10 minutes later, his noodles were boiled and he began the process of removing them from the heat and seasoning them with simple Vulcan spices and plain sauce. He was so engrossed in his work that he almost missed the beep notification of a visitor at his door. It was strange, receiving a call on the weekend and without warning. In his haste, he didn’t pause to check the camera and quickly opened the door, as it was unlikely to be anyone save for Nyota or Hikaru, or a delivery.  Jim Kirk stood on the other side.

They regarded each other for a moment. Jim spoke first.

“Hey. Um, I followed someone in. Into the building, I meant. Can I talk to you?” Unlike the first time, he did not enter the apartment without asking. Spock paused, then nodded. He stepped back and allowed Jim to enter, closing the door behind him. “Um, I brought you flowers. I wasn’t sure if you would even like-- or want, I guess-- flowers. But here.” The bouquet in Jim’s hands was huge, much larger than any bouquet Spock had ever seen before. He hadn’t even realized that Jim had been holding anything.

Silently, Spock took the flowers from Jim and walked into the kitchen. He filled one of his mother’s old jugs with water and set the flowers on his kitchen table. When he turned around, Jim was still standing in the entryway. Without anything to occupy his hands, he was fidgeting, tugging on his sweater sleeve and shifting his weight from foot to foot.

“Would you like to talk in the living room?”

Jim nodded. Spock walked stiffly to the couch and sat. For a moment Jim seemed to consider sitting on the couch with him but decided to sit on a chair by his writing desk.

“What would you like to talk about, Jim?” Something about the situation seemed humorous. Hadn’t they done this before? Suddenly, Spock felt like laughing hysterically. His shields were altered.

Jim was quiet for a moment, leaning over in the chair with his elbows on his knees, staring at the floor. “Look, I’m really sorry.”

“For what do you apologize?” Spock started, but Jim continued.

“I should have paid attention to your indications that you were uncomfortable, and not pushed you to do... all of that. Especially at that time.” Jim shook his head. “No, anytime. I’m sorry, Spock. I know you’ve been ignoring me because of it. I’m terrible and I am so so sorry.” Jim sighed and stood. “Please consider my apology.” He turned as though to move toward the door and Spock realized that if he didn’t speak now, he may never get the chance again.

“Jim, I have not been truthful with you!” His own voice seemed too loud in his apartment. His words echoed in his head, bouncing off the wall until they seemed to sink into Jim’s ears. Jim stopped short and turned back toward him. Spock looked away, folding his hands in his lap.

“I must apologize to you, Jim. My emotional transference shields are not completely in place, and I have been acting out of normal lately.” He forced himself to look back into Jim’s eyes. “I feel attraction for you physically, and mentally. However,” Spock paused, “it is not normal. For me, personally.” He felt the need to clarify when Jim’s eyebrows drew together in confusion. “Vulcans feel attraction. I am-- I am half Vulcan. My mother is human, and I admit that I am uncertain how to proceed in certain human situations. You ignited something within my soul. I wished to perhaps court you, but...,” Spock trailed off.

Jim was staring at him now, still standing in Spock’s living room as frozen as an art installation. “I have never been in this situation before. I did not respond to your messages because I felt,” Spock took a breath and remembered Nyota’s advice, many times, to be himself. “I felt that my actions were awkward.”

“Oh, honey." Jim's face crumpled into an expression Spock had never seen. "I mean, of course, it’s okay to be awkward!” Jim stood up and moved to sit beside him on the other side of the couch, placing a hand on Spock’s arm. “We basically fucked in your office after knowing each other for less than an hour. I feel kind of awkward about it too.” There was such sincerity in his eyes. Spock kept his gaze on Jim’s tan, golden skin and the almost reflective surface of his own in contrast. He was truly beautiful, Kirk. Too beautiful. He was a beautiful, golden, statuesque man with the boyish gaze of a cadet-- and yet, something hard and steely lie beneath the surface of Jim’s coy attitude. Perhaps that was why he found it easy to seduce others. Perhaps that was why Spock was so drawn to him.

Jim touched his cheek. Their eyes met. Spock’s forced himself to breathe as Jim leaned forward, inching ever closer, and pressed their foreheads together.

“If you’d let me, I’d like to take you out,” he murmured. His breath was warm against Spock’s chin. “On a real date this time, no fast food or a quickie in your office. And maybe sometime between your morning class and my afternoon lecture, we could grab lunch, in the square.” Jim leaned back just far enough to meet Spock’s eyes again. “Would you be amenable to that?”

Spock wanted to pull away. He wanted to make Jim leave, make him stop with his soft voice and soft lips and those beautiful eyes that threatened to swallow Spock whole.

“I like you, Spock.” Jim swallowed thickly and he pulled his hand back from Spock’s cheek, only a hair’s length away. “But if you-- if I’m not--” Jim huffed out a breath. “If you don’t want this, I underst-”

“There is a cafe and restaurant down the street with excellent eggplant lasagna.” Spock gripped Jim’s hand in his own, stopping him from moving away from him any further. Jim blinked rapidly.

“Oh! Okay, um... do you want to maybe go there tomorrow? My treat.” A soft blush rose to Jim’s cheeks. For one illogical moment, Spock considered bonding with him on the spot. “I know it’s soon, but um, I just think maybe....”

Spock raised an eyebrow. “I do not find it soon. You must remember that we have already engaged in coitus.”

He was rewarded with Jim’s barking, joyous laugh. Spock wanted to wrap himself in that laugh and play it back day after day. Jim grinned at him.

“Okay. Sounds good. So, can I expect you to meet me there tomorrow at 4:30?” Jim’s eyes were twinkling with happiness and crinkled at the edges.

“Of course.”

When Jim finally left an hour later, after they shared tea and Jim watched Spock eat and told him about some story in class, to which Spock surprisingly enjoyed hearing about, he reached for his communicator. He quickly typed out a message to Jim, just to let him know that he remembered. Perhaps, it seemed, he had made more than a friend in this cadet. He stood from the couch and strode into his bedroom. The comm beeped just as he set it down on the nightstand, and he lurched for it. Jim had simply messaged back a simple silly response, a smiley face with an accompanying joke. His cheeks warmed at the sight.

 

As Spock curled up in his blankets, he thought of Vulcan, of his mother, of Jim and his dazzling smile and soft lips. Perhaps this ‘date’ would be the first of many. Perhaps Jim found him beautiful as well and was happy.

 

Perhaps that was enough.

 

 **Jim K.:** _Hey, I’ll see you tomorrow. I’m beat. Goodnight, okay? Good night Spock. Sweet dreams._

  
**Spock:** _Rest well, ashayam._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We've made it to the end of this story! If you were here from the beginning, wow thanks! Also yikes, I'm sorry I made you wait. I'll consider making a series in this universe of Jim being a stripper, if people are interested (I know nobody is, I'm sorry I just want VALIDATION) but otherwise feel free to check out my other works and leave me a comment!

**Author's Note:**

> Leave a review and tell me how to be a better writer please, I'd appreciate it. Tumblr is 'thelegendofcreation' and it's fairly new don't judge thanks  
> Glad you came by, come again love you


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